Chapter Twelve: Traces of Civilization

When he felt the chill creeping in, he was jolted from his sorrow and realized it was already deep into the night. The temperature outside had dropped considerably. He gazed intently at the starry sky, as if searching for the location of the solar system and Earth, but of course, that was impossible—the sun was merely a small star, and Earth didn’t shine at all. He then entered his tent. Years of striving and space travel had forged his spirit and granted him an unshakable will. Now, with his grief momentarily subdued, he understood that since things could not be changed for now, he must carefully consider his future plans for survival. He knew, and firmly believed, that only by staying alive could hope and possibility exist; if life itself was lost, everything would end.

After some thought, he roughly outlined his short-term plan. First, he had to ascertain the general situation of this planet. Coming from the information age, he understood that only by gathering enough information could he make the most precise plans. Next, to survive in this unfamiliar environment, he needed sufficient strength. He knew that power was the foundation of all things—even in a highly civilized world like Earth, strength was the bedrock of survival. Therefore, besides keeping his weapons safe, he considered it necessary to continue practicing that mysterious mantra, which at the very least could make his body stronger and his senses keener.

At the same time, he wondered whether continued cultivation of this technique might indeed grant him abilities deemed supernatural by Earth’s science. Since he had inexplicably arrived on this strange planet, what else was impossible? Lastly, the most pressing task was to keep moving forward and seek more clues about this planet, ideally encountering intelligent life. Though meeting advanced beings might bring danger, he had to accept such risks, or he would never truly understand this world. Of course, before seeking intelligent creatures, proper precautions for self-defense were essential.

Having temporarily soothed his grief and formed a tentative plan, he felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him. Since he could set aside his worries for the moment, he lay down in the sleeping bag inside his tent and drifted into sleep. Only after reaching the Spirit-Condensing stage would his consciousness be strong enough to forego sleep for extended periods; otherwise, except during cultivation, his need for sleep was much like any ordinary person’s. Naturally, as his cultivation advanced, the required rest would decrease, and once he achieved the Golden Core stage, he would hardly need sleep at all—unless his spiritual power was greatly depleted by battle, requiring meditation or sleep to recover.

That night was exceptionally quiet; nothing unexpected happened, and no other creatures entered his alert zone. When he awoke the next morning, he continued onward in his chosen direction. After traveling about 150 kilometers from the earthen mound, wildlife began to appear more frequently. Perhaps the initial route had been within the territory of the giant bird, which discouraged other creatures. He mused on this as he trekked across the grasslands. After half a month, his injuries had fully healed. During those days, his journey required constant vigilance; at night, animals often entered his alert area, setting off alarms and preventing him from cultivating, lest an attack during training cause him to lose control of his internal energy and place himself in danger. Indeed, several times unknown, fierce animals attacked him, but thanks to his laser gun and thorough precautions, he handled them easily. Some even ended up as meals.

His luggage had grown: in addition to his original backpack, he now carried a bundle made from animal hide, containing dried meat from beasts he found palatable. Since his supply of nutrient solution was limited and he had no idea how long he would remain on the grasslands, he needed to preserve some for emergencies. Besides the dried meat, he also had a few bottles filled with fresh water and several water bladders made from animal stomachs.

At this moment, he stood before several fixed, makeshift houses constructed from what appeared to be steel, planks, stakes, and canvas. In this area, there were five such clusters, each with two or three buildings. The dust on the grounds and tightly shut doors and windows suggested they had been uninhabited for quite some time. Beside the houses lay the dry bed of a river, scattered with smooth pebbles and only a thin layer of dust. This indicated a seasonal river, dry in autumn and winter and flowing in spring and summer, with the houses likely built by nomads for temporary residence during the wetter months. The lack of insulation in the structures further supported this; nomads on the grasslands had to follow water sources for their herds, so they migrated as the rivers changed.

Li Xingyu entered the houses, carefully studying their construction methods, material characteristics, and manufacturing techniques. The existence of these dwellings proved that advanced intelligent life was present on this planet, and that some form of social organization existed. Otherwise, such clustered and communal housing would not appear. These were traces of social and technological civilization. By examining the materials, building techniques, and processing methods, he could roughly gauge the technological level of this society.

Upon close inspection, he found the steel used in the houses was of moderate purity, somewhere between pig iron and refined steel. The iron pillars were not fixed with welding or screws—just bent and bound together with rope. The edges of the planks showed no signs of machine cutting, nor did their surfaces; only marks from hand tools smoothing them could be found. The canvas outside had no evidence of mechanical weaving. Most importantly, inside, there were no wires, switches, or fixtures for electrical devices. From these observations, he concluded that the technological level here was roughly equivalent to Earth’s eighteenth century—at least in this nation or community. Even if other regions were slightly more advanced, large-scale mechanical civilization had not yet developed.

He believed social structures such as nations or communities must exist here, and the reasoning was simple. Since a certain level of technological civilization had been reached, the intelligence of the inhabitants belonged to the ranks of advanced beings. Communal living had emerged, indicating social order. With the development of social civilization, the inevitable result would be the rise of the strong and the weak, various organizations and factions. Advanced intelligent beings would certainly display selfishness, greed, and ambition, leading to conflict and discord. The most effective way to resolve these was through struggle and war, which would eliminate some forces and strengthen others, eventually resulting in organizations with the nature of states.

After staying among the wooden houses for about a day and deducing the technological and social level of this planet, he decided to first try cultivating the nameless mantra to see if it could greatly enhance his abilities, before considering his next steps. He had discovered that this planet was even more suitable for practicing the technique he had acquired than Earth or anywhere else in the solar system. If that method truly could yield the supernatural powers of myth and legend, perhaps others on this world had mastered it and possessed formidable strength as well.

Leaving the cluster of houses, he glanced at the distant mountains, still five days’ journey away, and set his resolve toward the range. His chosen direction, after about a month’s travel, would lead him to the mountains.

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